A Doll's Dream
by Digital Skitty
Summary: After unorthodoxly and accidentally receiving a wooden soldier named Sasori, Deidara finds himself stuck in a sickly sweet world of candy and sugary sweets, all somehow due to one Snowflake named Hinata...
1. Act I Part I

Warnings: SasoDei, hints (some subtle, some not so much) of other shonen-ai pairings, hints of shoujo-ai pairings, hints of SasuHina, death, minor blood and gore, minor drug reference

_Merry Christmas. _

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-.-.-

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Deidara turned, his blue eyes discovering something that caught him in a mix of emotions. At first, he almost gasped in sheer delight. Then he wanted to laugh; how absurd, it must be, to be them… And then, finally, it was pity. He knew what it was like for girls like them.

The three of them sat together, looking like porcelain dolls. Hands folded, backs straight, ankles crossed. Skin white, eyes glassy, hairstyles beautiful, makeup perfect, bodies unmoving. Deidara smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. He felt sorry for them, three girls he didn't even know. They were gorgeous, they were the life of the party, they were more beautiful than any ornament in the entire world. Stars would pale in comparison to those three. And they must be absolutely miserable.

-

-.-.-

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It was the party of the year. The famous Hyuuga Christmas party. Only a select few got invited every year. But the numbers were increasing, and people fell in and out of their favor. By some stroke of luck, Deidara got invited.

Actually, it was Itachi who got invited. They had been schoolmates, nothing enough to warrant the Uchiha heir extending his invitation (because although this was generally frowned upon, technically you could invite as many as you want if you were lucky enough to get an invitation). In fact, Deidara couldn't stand the self-important guy. But Itachi's best friend was a close friend of Deidara's, and when Kisame was invited, he dragged the blue-eyed blond along. He didn't want to be the only one of a lower social class in the whole compound, he explained.

The mansion was beautiful. It seemed to _glow_ from all of the decorations and stunning (conceited) people inside and out. Deidara had already lost Kisame, but as Kisame was always with Itachi, this wasn't necessarily a bad thing. And even he had to admit that he cleaned up rather well. It probably wasn't as dressy as most of the high-toned guests, but he blended in enough not to warrant a second glance from most of them. A maroon button-up dress shirt (complete with a black tie) and some black pants. Unbearably formal for one like Deidara, but at least he wasn't shunned.

He was at the Hyuuga Christmas party. That was all he needed. It was enough of a status boost to let him stay untouchable for the rest of the school year. Whether or not he enjoyed it was irrelevant.

Deidara tugged at his shirt's cuffs, wishing he could loosen his tie a bit. It wasn't exactly warm inside, but it was stifling. Too many people, milling around, dancing, chatting. He had never liked crowds. The artist worked his way to a window, pressing the back of his hand against the cold glass and pretending that he wasn't weird for doing so. He looked around, looking completely at ease. Which he wasn't.

Then he caught sight of the girls.

They were just porcelain dolls, really they were. All three of them, sitting close enough together to betray their nervousness. They obviously didn't want to be here any more than he did, for reasons of their own. As Deidara squinted in their direction, he recognized one of them.

Ino, a girl in the class below him. Most people asked if they were related due to their similar hair styles (even if the color was way off), but were quickly shot down on both sides. Deidara almost hadn't recognized her. Instead of the regular high ponytail, her platinum blonde hair was down, sleekly running down her back in a cascade. Her dress was a pale, almost washed-out blue, matching her eyes. It went down to her ankles, just as glossy and silky as her hair, snuggly hugging her curves. It was a ballroom gown, he realized; at first he'd thought it was a regular old dress. But now that he stared a bit more, he saw it flare out at her hips and ruffled downward towards her feet, it even had a _corset_. (Painful.)

So if the girl on the far right was Ino, that meant that the pink-haired one had to be her best friend, Sakura. Deidara only knew her by name and face, but now that he had a reference point, he recognized her. Just like Ino, she was glistening, frail, unmoving. She was normally paler than her friend, but her red gown just seemed to soften her skin further. Sakura practically glowed. Her mint green eyes were fixed on a point near her heeled sandals, glazed over slightly. Her rosy hair was held up, unlike Ino's, elegant and demure all at the same time. Her dress, too, was nothing short of a gown; it was less puffy than her friend's, but graceful all the same. Bright red, matching the holly that decorated the house, with white trim and a white shawl, which lay forgotten in her lap.

The middle girl, though, Deidara couldn't place. He had honestly never seen her before, though her dark hair and white eyes pointed out that she must at least be one of the (many) Hyuuga. If anything, she was more fragile and picturesque than the other two. Her dark hair had a pastel sheen to it, highlighting the curls she had up in pigtails. It looked to be just as long as Ino's, though with her hairstyle it just fell below her shoulders. Her eyes were even glassier than Sakura's, colorless and staring down at her hands. In contrast to her porcelain skin, she was wearing a dark, indigo gown, that faded into lavender near the hips and then back dark again towards her toes. The girl then moved (that alone shocked Deidara enough to open his mouth in a silent gasp) and looked in _his_ direction.

Deidara realized that her eyes weren't glassy at all; that was how they naturally looked. She, in a way the other two couldn't quite reach, was a true doll. The girl stared at him with her white eyes, accented with glitter and light lavender eye shadow. Deidara swallowed, and after a moment too long, tore his own gaze away from hers.

Just looking at all three of them made him feel too colorful and vibrant. (And _alive_.) His hair, while up in a high ponytail unlike his normal state, was too dark of a blond. His eyes were too bright and too blue. His shirt was too red and his pants were too black. He didn't belong in the presence of those three dolls. Suddenly, Deidara felt suffocated, and needed air. Cold air, preferably.

He somehow made his way towards the door. Not without stepping on a few toes, but he managed it nonetheless. And just when he was about to open the door, someone grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back into the party.

"Deidara, where are you going?" Kisame asked with a wry grin. He seemed to know exactly where Deidara was going, and the reasons behind it. Itachi was hovering near his shoulder, his coal black eyes fixed on the three girls across the room. From this angle, Deidara noticed, they were highlighted from the glow of the Christmas tree. Perfect little dolls.

"It's polite to stay inside when the hosts are opening their presents," Itachi remarked quietly. Deidara turned back to look at the three girls, but they were watching someone else, with matching expressions of curiosity and amazement. Ino and Sakura, though, both had small, beautifully wrapped boxes on their lap. The middle girl did not.

"It doesn't look like anyone is opening anything, yeah…" Deidara mumbled, standing on his tiptoes to try to see over the crowd. Everyone he could see, though, had their eyes on someone that he couldn't. He stepped to Kisame's other side, closer to Itachi, but at least now he could see. Someone else had arrived, someone he hadn't seen before during the party. He was tall, with long, spiky black hair, and red eyes, with lines under them. He was in a completely formal suit, and was talking to someone with a small smile on his face. He didn't look overly compassionate, but his smile could have fooled anyone. "Who is that?"

"Madara. He's a toymaker, a very famous and skilled one," Kisame responded. His height allowed him to already see over most of the guests there, and was watching with obvious enjoyment. "Apparently he's brought some of his dolls as gifts."

Deidara glanced at the three girls again. They could have passed as dolls, but somehow, he doubted that they were anyone's gifts.

"Hey, Itachi, wasn't this Madara guy related to you?" Kisame asked conversationally.

"It's just a rumor," he replied tersely, not looking away. There was a note in his voice that said to drop the subject, and so the other two did.

Deidara moved back behind him, watching as Madara took out three, large boxes. With a graceful gesture, the first two opened. Two life-sized dolls were standing ramrod straight inside. Both dolls' eyes were closed, and their joints were visible, but Deidara couldn't help the shiver that went down his spine. They were beyond lifelike. They looked more alive than the three girls.

It was a man and a woman, both dressed in what appeared to be real clothes, formal attire. They could have been guests. The man's ears were pierced, as was his nose, but somehow it only made him seem more distinguished, rather than make him look like a punk. His hair was a dark ginger, spiked in a way that could have passed as either natural and messy or carefully styled. The woman was just as beautiful and carefully crafted as the man. Her hair was a cobalt blue, held up in a bun with a white flower, though parts were left down to hang at about chin-length. She was wearing a light dusting of eye shadow, darker than any of the three living dolls'. The blue-haired doll was wearing a pure white dress, fluffed out almost like a ballerina's tutu.

As the guests (Deidara included) were staring in awe at these two amazingly convincing toys, Madara reached back behind them and flipped a switch. Two pairs of eyes snapped open, and the dolls' faces twisted into innocent, if vapid, smiles. The woman had clear, blue eyes, as colorful as her partner's were flat. They walked out into a space that cleared rapidly for them, perfectly balanced. They moved just as fluidly and naturally as any real person.

And then, the two dolls began to dance.

Their joints may have been visible and their eyes blank, but with their empty smiles and perfect moves, they were the only living things in the room. Everyone watched with large, disbelieving eyes. They danced better than anyone else in that room. The ginger-haired doll expertly twirled his blue-haired partner, and dipped her low enough for her extended hand to ghost across the floor. None of their movements were jerky or irregular. The pair finished their dance, smiling at the crowd. The male doll even bowed, while the female one curtsied coyly. Deidara closed his open mouth, trying to remember to breathe.

Finally, the room broke out into warm applause, life flooding back into the bodies of the crowd. Deidara found he could finally breathe again, and sucked in a lungful from gratitude alone. He could have sworn he heard Itachi do the same in front of him. Madara bowed, and his two dolls bowed and curtsied again, and then he flipped the switches on their back. They returned to their rigid, unmoving positions, falling back into their boxes perfectly. The last movement the dolls managed was closing their eyes.

People were murmuring to each other excitedly, wondering how much such dolls cost, how they were created, admiring how beautiful they had been. Madara smiled to himself and closed the two boxes, gesturing to the third. The room was instantly silent once more, waiting with bated breath for what wonder he might unleash upon them this time.

He opened the box, but moved in front so no one could see. A few disappointed groans were audible from the crowd. Madara turned around with a smile in his red eyes, and stepped away from the box. It was closed now. He tapped it with his hand, and nothing happened.

People were just about to start whispering to each other again when the box's lid fell off, apparently kicked off from inside.

Out stepped a soldier, in full parade uniform. He even had a sword in its sheath hanging from his waist. His hair was jet black, highlighted with a navy blue, and his eyes were even darker than his hair. The back of his hair was spiked upward, while the rest of it hung down around his face in a perfect frame, a few bangs even falling into his unseeing eyes. And with a full uniform on, not a single joint was visible.

Deidara glanced towards the three girls, and saw that both Ino and Sakura weren't looking like dolls anymore. Both had small smiles on their faces, and their eyes were bright. They looked like they had joined the land of the living, if only for a few brief moments, and if only because of one soldier. The middle girl just watched with her blank, white eyes, still as lifeless as before.

The soldier paraded around the room, even taking out his sword and going through several motions with it. His marching was flawless and perfectly timed. His shoulders were straight and tense while still seeming animated. As he marched around in a large rectangle, he paused before the three other dolls. He sheathed his sword and saluted, and then marched back to his box. Ino and Sakura both looked smitten with this wooden soldier, clasping their hands together in excitement. If anything, the rest of the room was just as enamored with these toys of Madara's, and broke out in deafening applause before the soldier had even been completely switched off. The black-haired soldier smirked as he was shut off, as if pleased with this attention.

Deidara suddenly had to get outside. Now.

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-.-.-

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Outside, the world was cold and silent. The moon glittered on the newly fallen snow, and his shoes crunched on it as he made his way to a snowy little bench near a frozen-over pond. Deidara could see his breath quite visibly against the dark night, but he didn't feel cold. At least, not yet.

He cleared a little space on the stone bench, and sat down in the snow-free area. Everywhere else was covered in little diamonds of the stuff. He looked around him, finally feeling his heart slow down a few notches.

That wasn't art, those were just toys, he told himself. Very, incredibly life-like toys, but dolls nonetheless. Clever contraptions of wood and wire. Animated with a flip of a switch. Nothing more. Still, Deidara couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and morbid interest when he had watched the two dancers and the soldier. They got more attention than the three living dolls near the Christmas tree.

With his finger, he absently sketched in the snow. It numbed his hand after a few strokes, but the bench next to him was the perfect canvas. Here was the pond, here were the snowy roofs, here was the moon, above it all…

"That's very good," a high, delicate, female voice said from behind him. Deidara jumped and turned around, entirely unsurprised when the voice turned out to belong to one of the dolls. The middle one, the dark-haired one he hadn't recognized. "Are you an artist?" she asked politely, fixing him with those colorless eyes of hers.

Deidara looked away. "I'd like to be, yeah. Of course…doodling in snow is hardly art, haha." He chuckled in self-depreciation, a bit embarrassed to be caught outside like this.

"It is still quite good. I've never seen a snow drawing before," the doll remarked, looking down at the sketch in the snow. "The moonlight on it makes it look even prettier."

How ironic, such a stunning doll calling a few frozen water droplets pretty. Though Deidara couldn't deny that it _was_ a pretty night outside. Somehow, however…the doll's beauty ruined it. She wasn't made for actually _being_ anywhere; the scene must reflect her own beauty. Not add its own.

"Aren't you going back inside? It's chilly out here, yeah. You might, um, catch a cold or something…" Deidara said lamely, sighing. He just wanted to be alone, not with this doll.

"The presents have already been given out, so there is no need for me to be inside. I wanted a bit of fresh air and to look at something that wasn't artificially beautiful." She stood beside him on the bench, and now he noticed that she was clutching a beautifully white- and gold-wrapped box. Just like the other two girls had before. So she had finally gotten her own present, good for her.

Of course, only the Hyuuga family members and close family actually _got_ presents at that party. (Though Deidara had heard rumors that the female guests got white roses or some sort of flowers as a simple gift.) Deidara eyed the box warily, wondering why she had taken it outside with her. Especially when it looked unopened. He didn't say anything, however, for fear of being rude. He didn't want to get kicked out.

"This was given to me by Madara. He gave my sister and I two dolls from his collection. He said it was the last dolls of this size he ever created, and will ever create." The doll sighed, petting the box absentmindedly. Now that Deidara could see it better, he noticed that it had, at least, been opened. Just very carefully.

Then, manners caught up with him. She was still standing beside him, and he was sitting. Not good. "Would you like to sit down, yeah?" he asked, a bit more hasty than he ought to have been. The doll looked up at him from her present, cocking her head to one side slightly. Her eyes were large and as pale as the moon, which made her dark eyelashes seem that much darker.

"I wouldn't want to ruin your pretty artwork," she replied quietly.

Deidara chuckled, and reached over and waved his hand over the surface of the snow, ruining it for her. He then scooted over and left the snow-less, vacated seat for her. "Artwork can be ruined if it's left out for too long. Now it'll be pretty in your memory, yeah."

She stared at him for a few long moments, and then finally smiled. It was a tiny smile, barely quirking the corners of her pink lips, but it made her squint slightly, and Deidara grinned back at her. Finally she looked like more of a pretty girl than a pretty doll. "My name is Hinata."

"Oh--I'm Deidara, yeah."

She sat down beside him, smoothing out her purple dress and setting the gift carefully in her lap. She sighed, and Deidara couldn't help but be intrigued. Even if she had a right to be miserable (who _wouldn't_, in her place?), why was she acting so forlorn now? The way her hands were lingering over the present's wrapping told him that it probably had to do with that.

She caught him eyeing the present, and her smile turned a little bitter. Deidara raised both eyebrows. It wasn't a flattering look for a doll. "I'm pleased with my gift, I really am…It's just…" her voice drifted off, and her eyes unfocused a bit as she stared at the frozen pond in front of them. Hinata didn't continue for the longest time, and Deidara was starting to worry that he'd have to prompt her to speak again if he wanted the story behind her sad look. But then, she sighed again, and he felt minutely relieved. "It's just…I'm getting a bit old for a doll…and…Oh, I-I just don't know. I'm already sixteen, and Madara has always been kind to me, and I really do love this doll, but…it's…just not for me…" Her voice faded into a whisper for the last few words, and Deidara had to lean forward a bit to hear her.

He knew the feeling. Sometimes, he'd draw something, and it just wouldn't be meant for him. (He usually gave those drawings away as gifts or burned them.) It was an odd feeling to describe, though, and it'd be terribly hard to return a gift for that reason. Deidara felt sorry for her, if he was being honest with himself.

"It really _is_ a beautiful doll, though…I…I'll just keep him as an ornament…" Hinata left off wistfully, opening the box. Deidara couldn't help but suck in a gasp; she was right in the fact that it was a beautiful doll. Dressed in a slightly modified version of the earlier soldier's uniform, the doll was about a foot tall, staring out listlessly from the confines of his box. His hair was scarlet, standing out against the white on his uniform, though his hair didn't quite reach his collar. It was almost long enough to fall into his eyes, but not quite. Instead, his cinnamon-colored eyes stared up out into the night sky, lidded, as though bored, or waiting for something. His hands were at his sides, the right one as if hovering over his miniature sword.

"Wow…yeah…he is beautiful. I mean, you're lucky to get such pretty gifts. I haven't gotten anything yet, yeah." Deidara grinned at her, trying to simultaneously lift the mood and tear his gaze away from the redheaded doll. Easier said than done. It was like he was trapped in a staring contest with the wooden man, and he felt his heart rate speed up again. So much for fresh air calming him down.

Hinata turned to him, eyes large and blank again. "I _always_ get pretty gifts like this. But…all you can ever do is look at them."

"You could, you know, _technically_ play with this one, yeah," he pointed out, finally succeeding in meeting her gaze.

She didn't smile. "I'm too old for dolls…This would be something Hanabi might like. Though she already received one as well." He took it that Hanabi was her sister that she'd mentioned earlier. Hinata sighed, yet again, and turned back to the doll in the box on her lap. She placed the lid back on the box, shielding him from view. Deidara couldn't help but be secretly pleased. That doll was too handsome for casual showing. "This one's name is Sasori. Such a pretty name, and it matches him."

"Sasori…" Deidara murmured, liking how it sounded on his tongue. "It does fit, yeah."

"Hmm…" Hinata glanced over at him again, this time a bit shyly. "You seem like you like him. Do you like dolls, Deidara?"

"Me? No. I just think he's a pretty little trinket, yeah." He grinned disarmingly at her, trying to ignore the fact that while he didn't like dolls, he wouldn't mind having one like Sasori.

"You're an artist, so I assume that you could value his craftsmanship and beauty more than I could." Deidara suddenly didn't like where this conversation was going. Hinata looked up at him, firmly this time, and suddenly held the box out to him. "Here. Consider him an early Christmas gift, since you didn't receive any others."

"When I said that, you know, I meant that I'd get plenty tomorrow morning--" Deidara started, but she just pushed the box into his hands. "Look, Hinata…I like this, I really do. But I can't accept him. It'd be rude--I don't have anything to give in return, yeah--and I can't exactly walk around the party with your present in my hands, can I?" he tried desperately, hoping that this doll would see a bit of human logic.

Hinata reluctantly took the box containing Sasori back, looking down at it thoughtfully. "…You can give me one of your drawings in return. That'd be lovely. If I want an ornament, it would be nice to have something that isn't so breakable," she started, visibly formulating her plan. "An-And you can be one of the guests that spend the night. So many of them do, none of them are bound to notice that you were a last-minute addition. Then you can take him in the morning."

"One of my drawings? What would you want me to draw, yeah…?"

"I don't know. Something pretty."

"I could draw you, then."

Hinata blushed a red that almost match Sasori's hair. Deidara blushed in reaction to that, then; he hadn't exactly meant it that way. But she wouldn't understand if he called her a doll, now would she? "I-If you…I mean…umm…" She nervously poked her fingers together, looking away from him.

"I-I just meant--you look, um, pretty tonight--" he fished around for something more coherent and understandable than what he was currently grasping at. Finally, he seized upon it, and tried to continue more clearly, "If it's a gift for you, then why not be _of_ you? Th-This way, it'll at least make sense for you to have it…yeah…"

Hinata looked at him through her bangs, smiling uncertainly. "…Sure," she said softly. "But…you can draw me later tonight, when most of the guests have left. And then, you get him." She placed Sasori, in his box, on Deidara's lap.

"I thought we agreed that you'd keep him until then--"

"We're alone out here, so while no one can see us, you can hold him. Why, are you scared of him, Deidara?" Hinata asked in amusement.

"A little. He's such a work of art, yeah," he joked.

It was then that the door behind them opened (rather loudly) and a voice called, "Hinata!"

Both of them jumped and Hinata reflexively grabbed the present back. "Y-Yes?" she asked, turning around. She was still a bit shaken, Deidara noticed. Maybe she was as fragile as a porcelain doll.

"Father says to come back inside now. You might catch a cold," a boy with long, dark brown hair said from the illuminated doorway.

Hinata nodded, and nervously stood up with a "Yes, Neji." She turned back to Deidara with a small smile, the one that made her look less like a doll and more like a human. "I'll meet you by the Christmas tree at midnight, alright? Then most people should have left and hopefully we'll be left alone."

Deidara nodded in agreement, and watched as the doll sauntered off to the boy in the doorway. He then reflected on how that night had gone so far. Interestingly, to say the least… So that Sasori doll was now his, huh? He leaned back, looking up at the moon. Why did he feel so pleased with that…?

Then, after a few more moments of snowy silence, the artist realized that his hands and toes were completely numb, and his nose was rapidly loosing feeling. Grinning like the idiot he felt himself to be, he got up, dusted his pants free of snow, and wandered back into the alluring warmth of the party.


	2. Act I Part II

It was midnight, and Deidara was amazed and how nice the mansion felt now that most of the people were gone. Oh, sure, there were a few stragglers, and then those who actually belonged there (himself not included), but it was essentially empty. The hallways and rooms were still lit with the soft, warm glow of Christmas lights. In the living room, the Christmas tree still stood, radiating hospitality and holiday cheer.

Deidara wandered aimlessly into the room, surprised that he was alone. He had expected Hinata to beat him here. He walked slowly over to the couch where the three girls had sat hours before, amazed that it didn't look nearly as perfect as it had when they were on it. He glanced down under the tree, not surprised that more, unopened presents were already there, awaiting the family in the morning.

"Oh!" A soft voice jerked him out of his thought, and he turned to find Hinata standing in the doorway. She was clutching a box-less Sasori, but was still in her party ensemble. Alone, and framed by the darkness of the hallway behind her, Deidara was again forcibly reminded of a china doll. She smiled nervously, and padded into the room. Her bare feet were the only things that had changed, apparently. Deidara felt bad for ridding himself of his tie and own shoes, now. At least he'd only unbuttoned the first button of his shirt (for comfort, of course); otherwise he'd just feel utterly scruffy and unworthy to be in this doll's presence.

Hinata seated herself on the couch, patting the cushion next to her. She was still smiling nervously, and clutching Sasori to her chest. "I'm glad…that you came."

"Of course I did," he replied on reflex, wondering if she had honestly expected him to stand her up. "You wanted a drawing, so I'll give you a drawing, yeah."

"Y-Yes, of course…" she murmured, setting Sasori gently in her lap and wringing her hands. "I-I'm so sorry, but…"

Of course; now she didn't want to give up the doll. Deidara had seen this coming, and couldn't blame her. He couldn't hide his disappointment from himself, though.

"Hanabi had broken him earlier…" Hinata said shamefully, hiding her face with her hair. It was still up in the curls and pigtails, and fell forward off of her shoulders to hang near her chest. Deidara blinked in surprise, numbed by this revelation. "Ma-Madara fixed him, of course! See? He's good as new…! I-I just wanted to tell you…in case you didn't want him anymore…"

Deidara sat down beside her, gently taking Sasori from her lap. She looked up at him, seeming ready to cry. The artist turned the doll over in his hands. He honestly couldn't tell that he'd been wounded in any way. Madara knew his stuff, then. "It's fine, really. He looks good as new, yeah."

Hinata relaxed, and smiled at him. "G-Good…Though I still am sorry!"

"Don't worry about it. If he's fixed, then he's fixed. No worries, yeah. Now, about that drawing you wanted…?"

Hinata had brought him a sketchbook and a few pencils, which wasn't exactly the best, but Deidara could definitely make due. He was drawing in _snow_ earlier. He had her seated on the far end of the couch, so the Christmas tree back lighted her slightly. Her hair shone from the light, and her dress sparkled.

Half an hour later, he showed her the finished product. Hinata's eyebrows shot up in surprise as she exclaimed, "Really? Already? You're fast…!"

"I'm impatient with things like art, yeah." He just grinned at her in reply, wondering if she was really as pleased as she seemed with it. It was only a pencil drawing, but he felt he had at least captured _some_ of her beauty with it. Finally the doll could see how pretty she really was.

"Wow…" she breathed, running her fingers lightly over the paper. Deidara took it that she really was that impressed with it. Well that was a nice ego boost. "Thank you so much! …Oh! A-And now, Sasori is yours."

Ego back down again. Deidara ducked his head, frowning faintly. "I just did a sketch, yeah…I don't feel like I deserve that gift. You keep him."

"No." She shook her head firmly, curls bouncing. "That was our deal. This is more than enough payment for him, and you'd value him more than I ever could."

-

-.-.-

-

Deidara wasn't sure how long they talked, but it was nice. Hinata was a nice girl, if a bit shy sometimes. The Christmas tree beside them twinkled into the night as they conversed, until finally, Deidara gave in with a yawn. A moment later, Hinata yawned as well, and soon they were both yawning and laughing and apologizing for yawning so much.

"Well…I should be getting to bed. I don't want to wake Ino and Sakura up when I return…" Hinata stood up, smoothing out her gown. Deidara stood up as well, resisting the urge to crack his back. The couch _looked_ nice, but it wasn't exceedingly comfortable.

"Goodnight then…yeah," Deidara called after her as she departed.

He wasn't sure what time it is, but his internal clock told him quite simply that it was late. He was pretty tired, though he hadn't exactly done anything particularly strenuous that day. Maybe being in the presence of a doll so long had worn him out. With that thought, however, Deidara looked at the doll Hinata had left behind. Sasori was propped up against the couch, staring lethargically ahead. It just so happened that Deidara was directly in his line of sight.

"What an odd doll…you look so serious for a toy, yeah." Deidara picked him up, grinning to himself. "At least you're a very handsome doll. I doubt even those life-sized ones are as pretty as you."

The clock in the hallway tolled, making him jump and nearly drop Sasori. After fumbling slightly, he laughed sheepishly, lucky that no one had caught him acting so jumpy. The clock pealed again, signaling that it was at least two in the morning. Deidara's laughter turned into a groan, especially as it rang once more and then was silent. Three in the morning. Lovely. And he'd have to wake up early, too, if he wanted to get out of the house with Sasori without causing some sort of scandal.

As he walked out into the darkened hallway (who had turned off the Christmas lights?) he thought he heard something. Deidara turned in time to catch a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. "Hinata?" he called softly, as to not wake anyone else up. No reply.

The noise sounded again, and this time he caught something scurrying back into the living room. Deidara stepped back into the light of the doorway, peeking around the corner. Oh, great. A mouse. The rodent looked up at him from its spot near the couch, narrowing its eyes calculatingly. It was completely unmoving. Deidara caught movement in his peripheral vision once more, though he wasn't fast enough to catch whatever it was. So it wasn't a mouse; it was _mice_. He never would have pegged such a stately mansion as the type to have pest control problems.

As he turned back towards the original mouse, Deidara froze. There was a massive _snake_ right behind the mouse, poised to strike. He managed to look away just in time to avoid the unfortunate rodent's demise. "A snake…? In the middle of _December_?" he murmured, backing up.

It didn't help that the snake was rather large, too. With a mouse-sized lump in its throat. It was snow white in color aside from dark rings around its golden eyes. Deidara unconsciously clutched Sasori a bit tighter to his chest, grimacing as the snake, done with its meal, fixed an unblinking eye on him.

The artist turned to walk away, but three mice were guarding the door (and his way out). Only these weren't tame little mice; now they were knee-high. One of them even appeared to have a miniature sword on a belt around its waist. Deidara smiled in relief, bending down to look at them better. "Oh, so you guys aren't real, yeah. More of Madara's little toys?"

He reached out to pet one (mostly to test how soft the fur was, because they looked so _real_) but it hissed and bit his hand. Hard enough to draw blood. Deidara straightened and pulled his hand back, scowling. And now, instead of knee-high, they were waist-high. He backed up nervously, blue eyes widening at how huge they had just gotten. He looked over his shoulder, towards the snake, just to make sure it wasn't sneaking up on him.

The snake was larger now, too. It was probably at least as thick as his waist, and was sticking its tongue out in his direction, tasting the air around him. Deidara's breath hitched as he noticed how big the Christmas tree was; these things weren't growing, he was just shrinking!

By the time he turned back around to the mice in front of him, who were now up to his shoulder. Deidara took another few steps backward, nearly tripping on the edge of the carpet. He flung out his hands to steady himself, and then realized that he didn't have Sasori anymore. Deidara looked around for the doll (really, it was a comfort thing at this point) but couldn't find the redheaded soldier.

And then, at least, it appeared he was done shrinking. The mice were almost as tall as he was, and he didn't even want to know how large the snake was. Luckily it had just had a meal…

One of the mice ran towards him, and Deidara turned and ran. The rodent caught up to him in no time, though, and hauled him up by the upper arm. "Hey, this isn't that prince."

"Or the soldier," another mouse chimed in as it ran up. Deidara aimed a kick at it, but it expertly dodged the blow.

"Okay, I don't know what drugs I'm on or what kind of crazy dream this is, yeah, but you little rats need to let me go right now!" Deidara ordered in a voice higher than he would have liked. The mice all looked at him, and then at each other, and then started laughing. At him.

"Yeah, right--"

Something flashed and then suddenly one of the mice was clutching its bloody paw. Deidara's eyes widened, and he wondered what was going on _now_. "I believe that he told you to let go." He turned, with large eyes, to see a sword. He followed the sword up to a hand, and then the hand to a face.

It was the black-haired soldier from Madara's show and tell, from before. Only now of a neutral expression or an innocent smirk, he was grinning. Evilly. "Now, unless you want to lose the other hand," he said slowly, "Let the guy go."

The mice hastily retreated.

Deidara, chest heaving, stared at the newcomer. No puppet joints were visible under his uniform, but then again, they hadn't been to begin with. He had no idea if this was supposed to be an actual person or just another doll. "Who…are you?"

"The name is Sasuke. I assume you were waiting for Sasori to save you, but he has his hands tied at the moment, and he couldn't rescue you." Sasuke sheathed his sword again, after wiping off a few stray droplets of blood onto the carpet.

"You--You're a doll. Yeah."

Sasuke raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, but I'm taken."

Deidara scowled, but at least he was no longer so unbalanced with all of the events. "That's not what I meant, idiot. I met--um, saw you before, and you were a doll. A puppet. A toy soldier."

Sasuke stared at him levelly, not speaking.

Deidara stared back at him, unwilling to give any ground on the issue. That was, until Sasuke's earlier words finally sunk in. "Wait--Sasori? As in redhead, wearing a uniform like yours, looking bored?"

"That's Sasori, all right," he muttered, looking away with a smirk. He turned back to Deidara, and opened his mouth to speak, but unfortunately, the mice came back.

There were now five of them, one of them the one who had its hand cut off earlier. Now all of them, too, had small (well, not at Deidara's current size) swords tied onto the belts around their furry bellies. None of them looked happy.

Sasuke pushed Deidara behind him, his own sword out in a flash. "Go--I'll take care of them."

"Go _where_?" Deidara cried, rolling his eyes. But as he saw the mice advancing, he decided to take the black-haired soldier's advice, and he ran. Further into the living room, towards the Christmas tree.

And then he remembered the snake.

Deidara skidded to a halt on the carpet, looking around wildly. But there was no colorless serpent to be found. He cautiously started jogging again, now wary of any sneak attacks from snakes. He didn't fancy becoming food.

As he neared the couch, however, he could hear yelling. And the clanging of swords. Deidara sped up a bit, furrowing his brow. Soon, moving shapes became discernible amongst the presents under the tree. It appeared to be a widespread battle.

Mice, against a conglomerate of soldiers. At least, they appeared to be soldiers. They were wearing the same uniform as Sasuke (and Sasori), at any rate. All of them had swords, flashing in the soft light of the Christmas tree they were beneath. No one paid him any heed as he got closer, though admittedly Deidara did it carefully. He didn't feel like getting killed by a bunch of sword-wielding rats.

He was soon pressed up against the couch, watching the ongoing battle with a mixture of excitement and horror. Mice and men both were getting killed, and it appeared that not everyone was fighting. Here and there, there were people fleeing the scene, usually screaming. It must have been some sort of war, with the mice just having launched a surprise attack.

Someone falling off of the couch in front of Deidara snapped him out of his musings, however. He tried to back up, but the couch prohibited his movement, so he just stood there. The unlucky person picked himself back up, holding his shoulder. Deidara inhaled sharply when he saw scarlet hair. The sound startled this soldier, and he looked up. With cinnamon brown eyes and a lidded (if sharper than it had been) gaze. Those lidded eyes widened very slightly as recognition took over, but neither of them had time to say anything, as a massive, ivory snake slithered down from on top of the couch. Sasori jumped back to avoid it, and Deidara just pressed himself into the fabric more, close enough to feel the wind from the rushing serpent.

"Sasori, you can't keep running forever!" a low voice taunted. Deidara looked up, half-expecting to see the snake talking (after all, if mice could, then why couldn't snakes?). But it wasn't; there was a man perched on top of the snake's head, his own sword out and laughing. He had long, black hair that shielded him from Deidara's eyes, and then, both snake and black-haired man were gone.

Sasori just shifted from foot to foot, holding his sword at the ready. He glanced around him anxiously, waiting for the snake to reappear. Deidara edged away, still pushed up against the couch, until he felt the fabric behind him shift slightly. He looked up in time to see a giant white tail slither down from the edge and wrap itself around his middle, hauling him back up onto the couch itself.

"My, my, what do we have here? You certainly aren't Sasori." It was the black-haired man again. Only now he was just a few feet (or what Deidara assumed were scaled-down feet) from the artist, and was looking at him curiously. He had golden eyes that matched his snake, even his skin color and the markings around his eyes were the same as the animal below him. The man peeked over the edge of the couch, supposedly down at Sasori, and then looked back at Deidara. "Certainly not Sasori at all. But you're not wearing a uniform of any sort. Whose side are you on?"

"Considering your rats tried to mug me earlier, I'm on Sasori's, yeah," Deidara spat, trying to wriggle out of the snake's grasp. The man atop it laughed, and then grinned down maliciously at the captive blond.

"Then you'll die for his sake," the man hissed, suddenly matching his snake even more. The white beast under him opened its mouth, rearing back for a strike. Deidara could only close his eyes, and then--nothing.

Sasori was there, suddenly. On top of the snake's head, like the black-haired snake-man. His sword was in the serpent's head, and a small trickle of blood dripped down its scales, off the tip of its snout, and onto Deidara's head. Sure, he was thankful to be alive, but he didn't want blood in his hair. He shook it to try to get rid of most of it, but the movement only caused the dead snake to suddenly fall over, dropping him in the process. He landed on the couch, thankfully (it would be a long drop otherwise).

"Orochimaru, you are an idiot if you think you'll win this war just by taking prisoners!" Sasori shouted. Deidara swallowed; Sasori certainly had a nice voice. It was the first time he'd heard him speak. Wait, what was he saying? Sasori was a _doll_!

Unfortunately, Sasori couldn't get his sword out of the snake's head. Orochimaru, if that was what the other's name was, advanced on him with an evil chuckle, his own sword completely free. And ready to kill. The redhead just turned and ran, towards the nearest dead body--they were even up here--taking the mouse's sword for his own. Orochimaru's chuckle turned into a laugh, but even that was erased when they started their struggle. Their swords both clanged as they glanced off of one another, neither of them able to actually tag the other with the metal.

Deidara looked around for something to help with. He spied Sasori's sword, still in the dead snake's head. He ducked low and carefully shuffled over, watching their sword fight out of the corner of his eye. Sasori certainly was skilled with a sword. But unfortunately, so was Orochimaru. By the time he made it to the snake's head, his ears were ringing from the clanging sound of the two swords' repeated contact.

It took a bit, but after a few moments, Deidara managed to dislodge the sword from the head of the carcass.

He pulled it out with a grin, waving it around a few times. Sure, he'd never used one before, but it couldn't be _that_ hard, right? Deidara crawled over the snake's body, fully intent on sneaking up and stabbing Orochimaru, when Sasori tripped.

Orochimaru had the advantage of height on Sasori, and had been forcing him backwards long enough to make the redhead trip just trying to keep up. Orochimaru cackled, and stepped on Sasori's sword hand to completely immobilize him. "This ends now, Sasori. This kingdom will be mine, as it so rightfully--"

"Hey, snake king!" Deidara shouted. Orochimaru half-turned, looking around venomously for whoever had interrupted. His yellow eyes alighted on the blond artist, and narrowed.

"_What_?"

"Catch, yeah!" And with that, he threw his sword as hard as he could at him.

Orochimaru raised both hands to catch it, but just a bit too slow. It hadn't hit him with the point or the blade, but it smacked him in the face with the hilt instead. It threw him off balance just enough for Sasori to wrench his hand free, roll around, and then reach up with his own sword and stab him through the heart.

Orochimaru's eyes widened, and he looked down at both the sword protruding from his chest and Sasori. The redhead grinned, and let go of the handle. Orochimaru fell over the edge of the couch, landing with a sickening _thump_ on the carpet below. Sasori peered over the edge, returning to his former lethargic expression.

Deidara came up behind him, also looking out over the edge. "Is he…dead?" he asked, surprised.

Sasori looked up at him, slightly taken aback that Deidara had snuck up on him so easily. "Yes." Deidara grinned, and couldn't help but notice that the redhead didn't look so bored when he was near him. Maybe that was a good thing.

Below them, the battle was slowly dying down. The mice were staring in amazement at their fallen leader, and Sasori's side were one-by-one looking up to the couch, just to make sure that their own leader was still alive.

"Come on," Sasori straightened, smoothing out his uniform a bit. He turned around and retrieved his sword (the one from the snake) and then extended his hand towards Deidara. "The fighting is over, thanks to you. Even if it was a stupid way to end things."

And here Deidara had almost been feeling good about killing a man.

"Uh, one, I just saved your life."

"I saved yours first," Sasori pointed out. He crossed his arms, looking mildly impatient.

Deidara narrowed his eyes, and moved on, "Second, I didn't see _you_ doing much. It's called a distraction, yeah."

Sasori studied him for a brief moment.

He decided to continue before the redhead did. "And third, I don't think a living human could survive falling from this height."

Sasori's eyebrows shot up, and his mouth opened slightly. Deidara flushed, and realized maybe he shouldn't have used the term 'living human'. But then, the redhead closed his mouth again, and just grabbed Deidara's wrist. "We're not falling, we're jumping. There's a difference, idiot. Besides, do you really think I'd let you get hurt after all that?"

And then he jumped, pulling Deidara along with him.

Before the blond could do so much as scream, they were landing softly on the ground, by the dead body. The mice and men were already crowding around it, several of them dropping their weapons gratefully. Sasori sheathed his sword as they landed, letting go of Deidara's hand.

Head spinning slightly, he couldn't help but notice how cold his hand felt suddenly. Which was odd; why would a doll have warm hands?

"This war is over," Sasori proclaimed to the crowd, gesturing towards the body. "Orochimaru, the Snake King, is dead. Mice, you may collect your leader and your dead, but you are not welcome here any longer."

The mass around him was silent, until a few mice came forward and gingerly picked up the body. As soon as they'd carried him out of sight and the rest of the rodents left, the crowd erupted into cheering. Deidara looked around, startled by the enthusiasm the soldiers seemed to invest in this celebration. Had the war had that great of an impact on them?

Sasori turned to him, eyes closed with his own grin on his face. Deidara couldn't help but grin just seeing that. It was such a change from the lidded almost glare-like stare that the doll had had previously. And for a moment, he really did look just like a doll again. "It's over."

"Yeah…" Deidara said, for lack of anything better to say. He looked up as someone familiar pushed his way through the crowd. Sasuke smirked at them both, giving them a little salute as he sauntered off into the mass once more.

Sasori took Deidara's hand once more, this time just holding it. "Shall we go?" he asked as he turned to him, something almost mischievous entering into his previously angelic smile. The blond couldn't help but be amazed at how warm Sasori's hand was, and wondered just what kind of doll he had gotten.


	3. Act II Part I

Sasori led his troops (and Deidara) towards the Christmas tree, oddly enough. But as they neared the tree, the light around them changed. It grew softer, clearer. And then, below them, Deidara noticed that there was snow on the carpet. The presents were disappearing, and the ground below them was slowly turning completely white as they continued on.

And then, as they passed the trunk of the tree, everything changed.

The walls and furniture and even the presents all around them vanished, leaving what could only be described as a wonderland. Glittering snow was everywhere, and what wasn't covered in snow had a thin layer of ice, giving it almost mirror-like properties. The tree was still above them, fantastically large icicles hanging from its boughs. Deidara glanced back behind him, but there was no more room. It was just more snow, with evergreens dotting the landscape, and what appeared to be a frozen river in the distance.

He felt his breath hitch, especially as he looked down and noticed he could see his breath. So it really was cold out, and it was real snow. But he didn't really feel cold. All Deidara felt was the warmth of Sasori's hand and the slight crunch of not-cold snow under his socks. As they marched onward, the troops still cheering behind them, things began to come into view behind the hills in front of them.

First, it was a house. Squat, homey, with an absurd color arrangement. Then, it was another house. And another. And by the time they passed the first one, Deidara noticed that the color arrangement wasn't absurd; it was completely natural, considering the home was made out of _candy_. He grinned at the very thought. Gingerbread houses everywhere. Such a land.

More and more houses came into view, until it was a full blown city of them. People peeked out of windows and half-opened doors, joining in the celebration once they realized that it was their side that won. The multitude behind them grew in size this way. Sasori, leading Deidara, headed this parade, and was still smiling to himself. In fact, he was even humming some vaguely familiar tune. Deidara glanced around once more, and spotted Sasuke not far from their position, also humming the same tune. In spite of himself, he hummed along with them, completely unsure of where he had heard the song before. Probably from some ballet.

"Sasori, uh, where are we going, yeah?" Deidara asked. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the merriment behind them.

"To the castle, of course," Sasori replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Oh, you never told me--what's your name?"

Deidara's heart sank. So this really wasn't his doll then, was it? What kind of high was he on, then? The pale-skinned, red-haired, cinnamon-eyed doll in front of him wasn't _his_ doll. That didn't make sense. So who was he, then? "It's Deidara."

Sasori paused in mid-step, just long enough for Deidara to catch. He blinked, trying to catch Sasori's eye (after all, it had been so easy before), but the redhead just closed his eyes and smiled vapidly at him. "That's a pretty name."

Deidara turned and looked at Sasuke again. He was marching along just a few paces behind them, off to the right. While his marching was exactly as it had been earlier, his expression betrayed him. Sasuke was _happy_, and dolls did not just get happy. Toys couldn't control their expressions like that. Toys didn't feel any emotions.

The only logical conclusion that Deidara could come up with (Sasuke's smirk, Sasori's warm hands) was that they were dolls no longer.

-

-.-.-

-

The castle was _huge_. That's all Deidara could think of to describe it. Mostly because his brain was lucky not to have shut down completely. Sasori (and Sasuke, even) was _real_. He was flesh and bone and blood and he wasn't a doll anymore. (Sure, he looked it, but that was beside the point.)

Deidara told himself to calm down, that even real people could look like dolls; after all, the three girls earlier had been living porcelain. There was a logical explanation for this.

But when he saw the castle, all he could do was stare in wonder.

It was large, yes. Larger than any single building he had ever seen before in his life. But it was completely white. So white, in fact, it had a bluish sheen, and its shadows were a darker blue. It almost looked like a cake; the snow on top of its turrets and walls looked like frosting, dripping down onto the sides and then freezing like that. For all he knew, it was a cake. (If the houses could be gingerbread, the castle could be a cake. It all made sense.)

Deidara was priding himself on how coherent he was keeping his thoughts when they neared the castle gates. Then they crashed completely.

Hinata, and a younger girl with darker hair but the same white eyes, were both standing there. Deidara took it to be her sister, Hanabi. Both were dressed in pure white dresses that wrapped around their bodies rather snugly, and then flared out in different spots. Also, they had matching white tiaras and ribbons tied around their necks, wrists and ankles. Both girls bowed, ribbons fluttering. "Hail to the victorious army!" Hinata called, batting her white eyes at them.

And there she was, a doll again. She seemed completely pale, washed-out, except for her hair. (Which had also been taken down and straightened, and now fell down her back in a waterfall of navy.) Her white eyes had that glassy look again, even as she stared welcomingly at them.

She took a few steps forward, on the tips of her toes, almost like a ballerina would. Sasori and Deidara stopped, as did the rest of the troops. Only Sasuke continued walking, though only for a few paces. Hinata eyed him shyly, and he just smirked and saluted her.

"Hail to the victorious army!" she repeated, curtsying. Her sister mimicked her movement. "We, the Snowflakes, proudly welcome you back to our land!"

"Greetings, Snowflakes," Sasori called back, raising his hand. "We're glad to be welcomed back." Deidara had a feeling that this was some sort of ritual they went through, but he wasn't quite sure. All of a sudden, it just seemed surreal again. Sasori, Sasuke, even Hinata. They were all just dolls, puppets on a string, going through the motions without really meaning any of them.

"The Queen is expecting you, Prince," she replied, glancing at Sasori. Then she turned her white gaze to Deidara. "Deidara!" And just like that, the ritual came to a crashing halt.

He perked up instantly at finally being recognized. Sasori and Sasuke both looked between the two in shock at this revelation. Hinata took a few more tip-toed steps towards them, her skirt and ribbons flowing out behind her with an imaginary wind. "Hinata?"

"Yes?" she asked expectantly, stopping.

"Uh, nothing, yeah," he looked away with a dry grin. "I just hadn't expected you to recognize me…"

"Why not?" she asked sweetly, tilting her head to one side. Her eyes were overly wide again, taking on glassiness once more. She looked more like a doll than anyone else there. "Of course I'd recognize you. You're with Sasori, of course. Are you two getting along well?"

"Did--Did you expect this to happen, yeah? What's going on?" Deidara asked, a bit too quickly to pass as nonchalant (which was what he'd been trying for). Being recognized was too good to be true in this crazy land.

"You're in the Land of Sweets, Deidara." She spread her arms with this announcement, as if that explained everything. When she didn't get the understanding look she expected, Hinata continued. "You're the Prince's guest now. This is a celebration in honor of the end of the war. Which, I hear, you had a hand in."

Was it really all that simple? "R-Right, yeah…"

"You know him?" Sasori finally asked, still looking back and forth between them.

Hinata bobbed her head (Hanabi doing the same behind her), and gestured them all inside. "Of course I know him. I'm the one who invited him here."

Sasori glared at her, for some reason that Deidara could not fathom. And then, as the gates to the castle had just opened, they went inside and left the Snowflakes outside.

-

-.-.-

-

"What is all this about?"

"This is a celebration. A ball."

"And that means I have to get dressed up again? _This_ is dressed up for _me_, yeah!"

"Bah, I wear more formal things to bed every night."

"Yeah, well, you're a _prince_." Okay, so Deidara was sore about not knowing several things. The main was that Sasori was a prince. (Though Hinata supposedly inviting him into this crazy world was high up on that list, too. Had she invited him with the invitation to the Christmas party, or when she gave Sasori to him, or when she invited him to spend the night? He couldn't decide.) And now Sasori was definitely using all of the royal influence he possessed to get Deidara to doll up. (Figure of speech, of course.)

"And as a prince, my escort must be as magnificent as I am."

"Not an ounce of shame in your whole body, is there…?" Deidara asked shrewdly.

Sasori shrugged. "Now into the jacket you go."

"I am wearing the shirt, and that is as far as I'm going, yeah." He had to put his foot down before Sasori had him completely done up.

The redhead, who had been holding up the jacket insistently, let his arms relax. "…It's this or a dress."

And so Deidara did get into the jacket. Eventually. Sasori, who sighed in relief at this major accomplishment, turned back to the mirror he had been using and tried to comb out his hair with his fingers. Deidara sighed, grabbed a brush from the nearest vanity, and set about to combing the prince's scarlet hair. At least he wasn't as dressed up as Sasori; he was in full uniform, a small crown and all. Deidara couldn't comprehend getting _that_ dressed up. "Isn't that uncomfortable?"

Before Sasori could reply, the door to the dressing room burst open, and in flounced one of the last people Deidara expected to see. "Sakura?!"

The pink-haired girl cocked her head to one side, and then looked behind her. "…Excuse me?" she asked politely, clearly confused. Deidara just gaped at her, so she turned to Sasori instead. "Who is this, Prince?"

"My escort for the evening. His name is Deidara," Sasori replied tersely, eyeing her. "Why are you here?"

"Is this the one that the Snowflake Hinata invited?" she gushed, rushing over. It was then that Deidara discovered that she wasn't walking; she was floating. Two translucent wings were fluttering from her shoulder blades, keeping her aloft.

Now that he really looked at her, aside from the initial recognition, she really did look much different. Her short hair was down, curled inward, framing her already round face. Her face wasn't nearly as pale as it had been at the Christmas party (which seemed like years ago now), and instead had a healthy, rosy flush. Her eyes were bright and lively, and her hands were constantly moving. Deidara followed the movement for a moment, and realized she had some sort of wand in one hand. Her dress wasn't nearly as gown-ish as it had been before; now it was as short as Hinata's had been, and a pale enough pink to match her hair. It flared out at the hips in a bell shape, and was tight enough to pass as a corset from there up. It was also strapless, shaped like a heart in front and dipping down into a V shape in the back. And Deidara only saw most of this because she kept twirling around and fluttering around him.

"Who are you supposed to be, yeah?" he asked dumbly, staring at her. He knew her as Sakura, but…

"Oh, it's nice to meet you, Deidara. I'm the Sugar Plum Fairy. Welcome to our land," she said melodiously, giggling as she somersaulted through the air. She seemed so _lively_ now…and yet, Deidara could swear that she looked just like a doll. She still had the gussied up look about her, and while bright, her eyes were staring a bit too widely at him to be completely normal.

"Uh…yeah…nice to meet you too, yeah," he mumbled, still staring at her.

Sasori sighed, and took over. "Sugar Plum, why are you here?"

"Oh! The Queen is waiting, Prince. It seems as if the ball has started earlier than expected. Most everyone's already there, too," she said pleasantly, beaming at him. Sasori stared at her for a moment, and then groaned.

"Great…We'll be right out. Go ahead and announce us," he ordered, running a hand through his hair (which only messed up any progress they'd had with it). The Sugar Plum Fairy flounced back out of the room with a shake of her hips, neglecting to close the door behind her. Sasori hastily pulled his own jacket on, and then dusted off Deidara's shoulders and messed with his blond hair, which had been let down from its earlier ponytail. "Okay, if you just be quiet unless addressed and know how to dance, you'll be fine."

Deidara got the feeling that the only reason Sasori was doing those things was just so he could touch him, but he wasn't complaining. For a doll, Sasori's hands were always so warm. "Right." He reached over and combed out a cowlick in the prince's red hair, and then grinned. Hopefully it was more reassuring than how he actually felt. "Why so nervous? You just killed Orochimaru, yeah. I thought that was supposed to be the hard part."

"You haven't met my grandmother," Sasori replied with a cynical smile.

Deidara was then pulled out the door by the hand and out into the hallway, where they almost crashed into another fairy. He bit his tongue to stop him from shouting the first thing that came to mind like the last time (Ino!), and instead just let her usher them both down a long hallway and stopped them in front of a set of double doors. "Here we go," she whispered to them, disappearing as the doors opened. Deidara glanced into the darkness where she'd vanished, but was soon distracted by the bright light of the ballroom.

Blinking as he adjusted to the light, he vaguely heard someone shout, "Now announcing, his Majesty, the Prince, Sasori and his escort, Deidara!" Deidara just figured he'd follow Sasori as the redhead took a step forward, still clutching his hand. It was a wonder his hand didn't break. Sasori must be nervous.

As his eyes slowly adjusted, Deidara could start to pick out individual things. Across the immense room, there was a high throne, and a woman seated in it. In between there and where they currently were (a large staircase leading downward), there were hundreds of people, all in formal attire, of varying colors and hues. The dresses were pretty exotic, he noted, and wondered what kind of ball this was supposed to be.

What was alarming, however, was that he recognized a few people. The Sugar Plum Fairy and her other fairy friend were fluttering in amongst the crowd, beaming at them both. The two Snowflakes, Hinata standing beside Sasuke, were present. As Sasori led him down the stairs and past all of these people, Deidara could have _sworn_ that he had even seen Kisame and Itachi.

It felt like an eternity before they reached the grand throne, much too long for Deidara's tastes, at least. Sasori was still gripping his hand for dear life, too. The blond artist glanced over and noticed with a small smile that Sasori's crown was slightly crooked. It was cute in a way he had never thought of the doll before. Before, it was just handsome, and pretty. Now, suddenly, Sasori had become cute.

The prince bowed his head, and jerked Deidara down by the hand when the blond failed to mimic the movement. "Hello, grandmother," he said quietly, still bowing.

"You may rise, Sasori." He and Deidara both stood straight again, and Deidara noticed that even if she was his grandmother, she still was beautiful in a way that only the dolls of this land managed. Her grey hair shone in the chandelier's above, and her crown glittered with jewels and glowed with gold. She had a kind face, too, even with the wrinkles. "I am glad that you made it home, safely."

"Thank you," Sasori inclined his head again, and Deidara jumped to copy it, but it turned out to just be a nod. "Grandmother, this is Deidara."

He flushed, and wondered what he had done to Sasori to cause him to throw him into the spotlight so remorselessly like that. What did you say to a queen? Hi, I like your grandson a bit too much for it to be normal? I think I'm high? Your grandson is secretly my doll?

"It is my pleasure to meet you, Deidara," the queen nodded in his direction, and he hastily jumped to attention.

"No, it's my pleasure--I mean…Thank you, your Majesty?" He bowed, feeling pretty foolish right then. Luckily, Sasori saved him.

"The Snowflake Hinata says that she invited him here," he said solemnly. Deidara suddenly felt like he was some sort of interesting experiment, based on the way the queen was suddenly examining him.

"Is that so…" she murmured, giving him a once-over. "In that case, please take good care of my grandson, Deidara."

Deidara felt blindsided by that. Sure, he could take care of a _doll_, but this? A prince? "Um, yeah," he muttered, biting the inside of his cheek nervously. Something was off here, and he needed to figure out what before he got in over his head. (Well, he probably had already, but that was beside the point.)

"And then, with the safe return home of all of this land's army, and our crowned Prince, let the ball commence!" the queen called, spreading her arms grandly.

Sasori turned and pulled Deidara back down the stairs towards the ballroom floor. He had never felt so relieved in his life. Deidara made a mental note to never speak to a queen again if he didn't know what he was talking about. Once they were a fair distance away from the throne and the music had started up, Sasori turned to him and offered his hand (that he'd just let go of Deidara with), and asked, "Care to dance?"

"Sure," he replied with a grin.

Sasori was only an inch or two shorter than him, but he was still leading, which Deidara was oddly fine with. He barely knew how to waltz, anyway. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Sasori's.

It seemed like only a short time before someone tapped him on the shoulder and asked, "May I cut in?" But as Deidara reopened his eyes, he noticed that it had already switched songs, and they had somehow danced quite a bit farther away from the throne.

"Yes, of course," Sasori replied, backing away, though he sent a sour look to the woman who had just cut in. Deidara found himself dancing with the platinum blonde fairy now, who was smiling coyly at him.

"You're the one the Snowflake Hinata invited for Prince Sasori, hmm?" she asked in a low, husky voice. Deidara wondered why people kept mentioning that. Was it supposed to be important?

"I suppose so, yeah. And you are?"

"I'm the Dew Drop Fairy," she replied with a titter. "And you are Deidara."

"Yeah."

The fairy hummed along with the music, resting her head on his shoulder as they danced. Deidara didn't exactly mind, but couldn't help but wish that it was Sasori doing that. He glanced over and saw him dancing with the Sugar Plum Fairy, also conversing. Judging on the way they were glancing at him, no doubt they were also talking about the one the Snowflake Hinata invited for Prince Sasori. (It was an interesting title, but he knew it was going to get really annoying, really fast.) Something else that caught his eye in the crowd was Sasuke and Hinata, dancing together. Neither of them were speaking, but both of them had their eyes closed, the Snowflake resting her head on the soldier's shoulder with a porcelain smile on her face.

The song ended, and the Dew Drop fairy, whose dress matched the Sugar Plum's in everything but color he just noticed, fluttered off with a wave and a smile. Sasori rejoined him, taking his hand again, as if it belonged there. Deidara didn't mind. "I seem to be causing quite the stir as the one Snowflake Hinata invited, yeah," he said casually, watching as a few dancers took the floor. No one else seemed to be dancing save them.

"Those are the Chocolate dancers. They're quite good, aren't they?" Sasori asked, just as casually. Deidara nodded stiffly, bent on not saying anything else until the doll answered his question. So he and Sasori silently watched the Chocolate dancers twirl about in their suits and dresses, putting on quite a show. Even Deidara had to admit that they really were good. "…Yes, you do." Finally, Sasori replied.

"What does that mean?"

"It means she invited you here to be with me. By ways no one knows about," Sasori replied calmly, keeping his brown eyes trained on the pirouetting dancers.

"To be here with you?" he echoed, curious. "What does that mean?"

"As a prince, I am going to rule this land some day. It's common knowledge that I don't want to do that alone. It'd be a very lonely job, I imagine."

Deidara flushed slightly, and decided to watch the dancers instead of Sasori from now on. He didn't reply.

-

-.-.-

-

There were several dancers that evening for their entertainment, most of them sweet-themed, it seemed. Chocolate, Tea, Coffee, and Candy Cane dancers, a blonde, busty woman called Mother Ginger with her Bonbon dancers, the Marzipan shepherds (who were really dancers as well), and then the last two dances were quite surprising. After a brief argument about it, the Sugar Plum Fairy and the Dew Drop Fairy ended up dancing together, as apparently the Dew Drop Fairy was supposed to go first but hadn't, due to her dance with Deidara.

The final dance was one that Deidara recognized completely. It was called the Waltz of the Flowers, but he had already seen it before. It was that ginger-haired man and the blue-haired woman with the flower in her hair, only now, they didn't have visible joints. They were completely made of flawless, human, living skin. Which only proved to Deidara that here, no one (and yet everyone) was really a doll. They twirled and tangoed in time with the music, though during the whole time, they were staring into each other's eyes. Deidara had to wonder if they were dancing to their own music that only they could hear.

He almost looked around for Madara, convinced the man was here _somewhere_, but caught himself in time.

Then there was a general dance once more, though Deidara was dragged off by Sasori. That seemed to be a recurring theme in their relationship so far. He drew him away into a secluded balcony, outside in the moonlight. The moon's light reflected off of the snow everywhere, bathing everything in a dreamlike, yet sharp, glow from below. Sasori took both of Deidara's hands, staring intently at him. Deidara patiently stared back, waiting for the other to speak first. After all, he was the victim in all of this.

"Are you going to stay here? With me?" Sasori asked quietly.

"Is there a choice in the matter, yeah?" Deidara asked, just as quietly. He didn't know why they were keeping their voices down, especially as the snow absorbed their sounds.

"There is always a choice. You can walk away from me right now if you'd like, Deidara."

"You know I wouldn't do that," Deidara murmured, closing his eyes. He reopened them after a moment, but kept them lidded, imitating Sasori's expression. "I've already become too attached to this place. And…to you…"

"Attachment isn't always a good thing," Sasori replied practically. "I'm glad you were invited, though…"

"So am I."

"Are you staying?"

"…Yeah."

Sasori smiled at him, closing his eyes. It made him look innocent, beatific even. It made him look like a doll. Then, he leaned up and kissed Deidara.

Deidara bolted upright, chest heaving, hands flying to his mouth. The room around him was dark, and there was no one else there. He was in his pajamas and still in the Hyuuga mansion. There was no beautiful redheaded doll lying next to him where he'd put him.

It had all just been a dream…


	4. Act II Part II

Deidara was disappointed, completely and simply. It had all just been a dream. There were no dolls aside from the three girls he'd seen last night at the Christmas party. Sasori wasn't real. Sasuke wasn't real. Hinata was only real in the doll-like quality she still held. It had all just been a dream…

He got up that morning, because he knew if he didn't he may never get up again. The Christmas Day feeling hadn't set in completely, but he was still dimly aware of it. He staggered out of his room after pulling on his rumpled formal attire from last night, waving good morning to a few other guests. Everything seemed happy and complete and pristine, aside from the fact that he didn't have Sasori. Hinata wouldn't have Sasuke, or that smile she held only for him. Ino and Sakura wouldn't have their liveliness or radiance. Everything and everyone was pristine.

Pristine like a china doll. You could only look, never touch. If you touched it, it might break. It could break. It would break. Reality was like that most days. If you questioned it, it was liable to break. Deidara wanted to push the doll off of its pedestal, but instead just walked out into the living room, just to see. A few Hyuuga family members were there, including Hinata. She glanced up as he stood in the doorway, but there was nothing in her vacant, ashen eyes. She was sitting beside her sister on the couch, both of them suffused with the warm glow of Christmas morning and the Christmas tree.

Deidara continued on out of the room, out in the courtyard he may or may not have visited last night. It didn't look like it, but it may have snowed again. He couldn't tell, and he hoped against hope that he it was the latter. Let him have this one thing as a gift.

He dusted off the bench and sat down, looking at the black ice of the frozen pond in front of him. The snow sparkled with the morning's sunlight, rosy and full of warm colors. Deidara felt chilled immediately. The snow was like a doll. It was only perfect so long as you didn't touch it, didn't harm it, didn't question how breakable and fragile it was.

Sasori had been a doll. He had been frail, and Deidara had broken him by waking up. Sasori had been a doll, and would always be a doll, now. Deidara couldn't even remember how warm his hands had felt. Everyone here was a doll.

Now that he was alone and could think, the artist wondered exactly how much of it had been a dream. Somehow he had to have wound up sleeping there, unless he'd just fallen asleep and they were too polite or too busy to kick him out. Hinata hadn't greeted him, however. She might have just been busy…

Deidara couldn't find Sasori, though, doll or not. That must have been a dream. All a dream, a delicate little dream, a doll's dream…

He idly drew in the snow again, just to see if he could restore the feeling in his body with the movement. He wasn't overly cold, but all of the snow around him gave him the impression that he was. He stood out, yet again, with his too-bright colors.

He didn't know how much time had passed before he finally went back inside, but it must have been at least an hour. Many more people were awake by now and were bustling around, exchanging gifts, eating breakfast, chatting casually. Deidara sullenly shoved his hands in his pockets, both to try to warm them (they felt so _cold_ without Sasori's) and to keep people away. If you looked resilient, people wouldn't try to break you. That's why they were so attracted to dolls, because they were fragile, and people knew that. They liked the feeling of having that control over something.

So why had Deidara liked it when he was the doll, when he was being controlled by Sasori? Maybe he liked the roles switched like that. Or maybe he just liked it so he wouldn't have to think of Sasori as just a doll.

But all that was irrelevant now.

"Good morning, Deidara. Merry Christmas." Deidara looked up as he heard the words. Hinata was greeting him with a faint smile on her doll-like face. Her eyes were still glassy and her skin was porcelain white, but at least it was nice to know that it all hadn't been a dream.

"Merry Christmas, Hinata. Get any gifts you like, yeah?" he asked politely.

For the briefest moment, her eyes glittered like the snow outside. Deidara blinked; it must have been his imagination. She was a doll, after all. Dolls didn't look alive. "One or two…How about you?"

"I'm not sure yet, I haven't received them all, yeah," he said with a forced grin. She chuckled softly, putting her small hand to her mouth to cover it politely.

"I hope you appreciate the ones you do receive," she said sincerely. Even with her hair down and straightened, and most of her makeup either missing or smeared by sleep, she still looked as immaculate and innocent as a doll. Deidara just couldn't get that out of his head. For all intents and purposes, she _was_ a doll. (Or a Snowflake.)

"I'll be sure to, yeah," he replied with a shrug. He was about to depart when someone else came up behind Hinata, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against his chest. Deidara suddenly couldn't breathe. The black-haired boy kissed Hinata on the cheek, and then looked up at Deidara with a smirk.

"Merry Christmas," Sasuke said halfheartedly, more as a greeting than actually meaning it.

"Goodbye, Deidara. I hope the rest of your year is pleasant for you," Hinata waved goodbye, suddenly looking a lot less like a doll. She and Sasuke strolled off back towards the living room, leaving Deidara standing in the hall, still breathless.

Deidara ended up searching the whole mansion for the next two hours. He had come across several people he knew in that time, but none of them were the doll he was looking for. Ino and Sakura, dressed in matching pajamas, the two dancers, and even a sleepy-looking Itachi in one of the rooms. "Who are you looking for?" Ino asked, tilting her head to one side.

"You know who," was all Deidara replied, biting his bottom lip. Sakura leaned over and whispered something in Ino's ear, and then they both looked at the artist with bright smiles. They looked spirited, but still something was doll-like about them. Though even that melted away when he saw their fingers intertwined between them.

If you're a doll, what's the most logical thing for you do to? Find another doll, so you don't feel so fragile. Deidara continued his search fruitlessly, getting more and more desperate and frustrated as the time dragged on. Deidara had to find his doll. He _had_ to.

Finally, after two long hours, he had to give up. Sasori simply just wasn't in the mansion. There was no way that he could have missed him. Dragging his feet, Deidara made his way to the front door, kicking his shoes back on. He opened the door, and turned back around one last time, hoping for a glimpse of scarlet.

Instead, someone grabbed his hand from outside and dragged him out into the sunlight. "It's about time you got out here. I was about to go in after you," a very familiar voice scolded. Deidara turned around with wide eyes, unable to believe it until he saw it.

Sasori was holding his hand again, shaking his finger at him with the other hand. His red hair was just as messed up as it had been with the crown. Scarlet locks fell just short of his eyes again, curling slightly at the tips, making his skin seem whiter than it was. His eyes were lidded with brows drawn, though they were still their familiar cinnamon color. Instead of a soldier's uniform or a prince's outfit, Sasori was wearing rumpled, slept-in formal attire, just like Deidara. The blond smiled uncertainly at him.

In a world where everyone was a doll, there was no one there to break you. You could only find another doll and pretend you both weren't so fragile. Porcelain dolls looked so nice together, after all.

Sasori's hand tightened on his own, and slowly his reprimand melted into a smile. "Oh, come on, you idiot. Let's go."

"Okay," Deidara said simply, letting himself be dragged off once more. He had his doll back.


End file.
